


Shameless

by khazadspoon



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Charles Vane lives, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, James and Thomas Invented Love, M/M, Polyamory, destroying the shame farm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 16:25:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13930824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khazadspoon/pseuds/khazadspoon
Summary: The further away from town they got, the more open and affectionate the old lovers became. Thomas would sweep Flint into a deep kiss, not caring that Charles was there watching. James would crawl into Thomas’ lap when they stopped to rest, kiss him, roll his hips and glare at Charles as though daring him to comment. But Charles didn’t; he let the curious warmth in his stomach spread and grow, but didn’t say a word.--- Charles Vane and Captain Flint are sent to Savannah and free themselves and Thomas along the way. The reunited lovers invite Charles to share in their re-discovered joy. ---





	Shameless

**Author's Note:**

> Based on bean's post:  
> "AU where the crew of the Walrus did accept the pardons that Hornigold offered in 3x01. James, obviously, refuses, so he’s handed over to Rogers in chains. Vane is captured trying to rescue him. Max, realising the danger that executing them both could bring, goes ‘well fuck that’, and arranged to have them sent to, you guessed it, the plantation. Where they find Thomas in the middle of planning a massive revolt"
> 
> except i can't remember when anything happened so it's more towards the end of s3 and then Thomas and James seduce Charles a bit until he watches them fuck. 
> 
> Thats it thats the fic.

Vane and Flint were to be executed, having refused the pardons the other pirates had taken, but rescue came from an unexpected place. Max had saved their lives in exchange for their freedom. She had bargained with the governor with help from her former paramour in order to have them sent somewhere they could not interfere.

With Rackham at see with Anne Bonney, and Silver with the Maroons, there was no one to fight on their behalf. And thought the taste of defeat was bitter they left Nassau on a merchant ship to Florida not long after dawn broke.

\-----

Charles watched as Flint sank further into himself during the voyage. With nothing to fight for, no cause to keep him afloat, he was reduced to a shell of a man. His shoulders slumped, he didn’t eat, slept only fitfully when the exhaustion became too much. He was becoming hollow and there was nothing Charles could do but provide small and meaningless comfort. He leaned against Flint in the hold, ignoring the rattling of chains that dragged memories long since buried to the light, drew Flint to his side and held him in silent camaraderie. It was all he could do.

They reached Savannah just before noon. Gates were opened, coins were exchanged in a dark and cool room, then they were led to a bright field surrounded by sugarcane. Charles let the men unshackle him and resisted the need to hurt them, to bludgeon them to death with their own cudgels. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a tall white man in dirty work clothes take notice. Flint, rubbing at his freed wrists, turned as though feeling eyes on the back of his neck.

Pain, raw and all-encompassing, filled his expression in the blink of an eye.

The reunion was like those in the books Teach had kept in his cabin, like the stories the brothel madams would tell him when he was still young enough to listen without paying for their time. James (the man before him was barely a shadow of the Captain Flint he had come to know) wordlessly stepped forward like a man approaching a vision from God. The tall man uttered a loud cry as he leapt into Flint’s arms, Flint grasping at him and holding on with a white-knuckled grip. They kissed with shaking lips, foreheads pressed together when the parted for air. The taller man’s arms and shoulders were like a barrier between them and the world.

It was only hours later when the sun had set that the former Lord Thomas Hamilton (going by the chosen name of McGraw) revealed his plan to free the men and women enslaved at the plantation and set the place ablaze. Charles saw the glint of madness in his eyes, he found that he liked it.

Flint became more himself as Thomas described him over the next few days. He ate, spoke more, his dry-as-bone wit returning and easing the strange tension settled in Charles’ chest. With every minute he spent in Thomas’ company he recovered from the ten years they had spent apart. One day, when Thomas was excused from labouring due to the rain swelling his joints, the two lovers disappeared for hours. They were exhausted when they returned at dusk, though not for the reason Charles had been imagining. He had pictured slow kisses and fumbling hands, imagined harsh breaths shared in the small space between their mouths as their bodies joined in that carnal way Charles had only experienced with women before. In his mind he saw Flint’s eyes ablaze with desire and Thomas’ cheeks pink from exertion as they moved together.

In the end it had been something far less enjoyable.

James had told his story from beginning to end. Thomas had shared his. Charles had few details, knew only the last years of James’ story and little of Thomas’, but the pain and grief in the two men’s postures and faces told him all he needed to know. They had been broken by the world, but they would put one another back together.

\-----

The plan, when executed, went without a hitch. Flint’s tactical genius coupled with Thomas’ disarming charm convinced the workers to join them in revolt. Their combined anger was even more effective against the guards. Charles took a great satisfaction in taking their lives.

It took barely more than an hour for them to be free. The moon bathed them in soft light as they fled the burning plantation and Charles laughed in shared joy with the two men kissing under the stars. He felt his own cheeks heat as Thomas pressed their faces together and whispered a hoarse “ _thank you_ ” under his breath.

Georgia was a place Charles had never been - he’d had no reason before, no interest, and had never given thought to the idea of going. But it was the easiest place to be, what with Rogers in Nassau preventing him going home.

Under new names they used gold and documents from the plantation to secure lodgings in a hastily erected cabin to the north of the colony, flanked by woodland and lakes.

The further away from town they got, the more open and affectionate the old lovers became. Thomas would sweep Flint into a deep kiss, not caring that Charles was there watching. James would crawl into Thomas’ lap when they stopped to rest, kiss him, roll his hips and glare at Charles as though daring him to comment. But Charles didn’t; he let the curious warmth in his stomach spread and grow, but didn’t say a word.

\-----

The trend continued after they set up their lives in the cabin. Charles found himself confronted with the two men half naked and lost in one another in nearly every room of the already small enough cabin.

At first he avoided it. He left a room when he found them, averted his eyes when breeches came off and the sound became wet and desperate. But after a while he noticed Thomas watching him, assessing him, tracking his movements as he went across the room. They began playing a game of sorts with each other after that. When Thomas kissed Flint, Charles would take a seat and watch, thighs spread and posture relaxed. When James sank to his knees to nuzzle and kiss at Thomas’ belly, Charles would lean on the wall next to them and listen to the quickening breath falling from the taller man’s lips as Flint drove him to orgasm with his mouth.

He never touched either of them though he was close enough to, never said a word to break the stillness in the air around them. He simply watched.

Thomas, it seemed, liked to show his lover off.

“And why shouldn’t I?” Thomas said one evening when Charles had plucked up the courage to ask what exactly was happening. “James is _beautiful_ . When he lets his shame go, when he gives in and lets his body and heart rule instead of his head…. He is like the most exquisite painting. I want the world to see him as _I_ do, not as some reviled creature the rest of the world would make him out to be.”

\-----

It came to a head the night Charles found them both in his bed. James was on his back, thighs pressed almost to his chest as Thomas moved over him, pushed into him and over him. His eyes opened as Charles stepped into the room, a ragged moan tumbling from his lips. Thomas slammed his hips forward and looked up.

“Take a seat, _Captain.”_

Charles sat in the chair positioned by the foot of the bed, just out of reach of James’ head.

“You’ve done away with pretense, I see,” Charles drawled out. “Can’t say I don’t appreciate it.”

Flint laughed breathlessly, craned his neck to look at Charles upside down, the laugh twisting into a moan as Thomas began to move again in fast, harsh thrusts. Charles’ trousers were too tight, his cock hard and aching in moments as he watched the men before him perform their little dance for him. He loosened the tie and rubbed a hand over the swell of his crotch, not enough to really stimulate but enough to keep the roiling simmer of arousal stoked in his stomach.

Thomas lifted his lover’s hips higher and took hold of James’ ankles, stretched his legs up and out in a wide V. The powerful movement of Thomas’ body was astounding - the light from the candles made his body look less like alabaster and more like shimmering copper, joined in a fiery dance by the still growing red of James’ hair. Charles pressed the palm to his crotch a little harder as James’ eyes opened and fixed on him, mouth open in a sinful ‘o’.

The sound of Thomas’ hips slapping against Flint’s drove heat into his belly and he could barely stop himself leaning forward in his seat to put a thumb against Flint’s mouth. James made a breathless sound _want_ and licked at the pad of his thumb with a hot tongue.

“You can’t resist him, can you?” Thomas said in a growl. “I was the same when- when we first did this,” he continued, voice hoarse and breath coming in pants. His body moved sinuously and distracted Charles from the words he was saying for a moment. “He didn’t say a word," Thomas continued, "he expected me to- _fuck_ \- to fuck him on his knees and toss him out on his arse-”

“But you didn’t,” Charles finished for him.

Thomas barked a laugh and moved to lay himself over James’ body. He stroked a hand down James’ flank, kissed the side of his neck and nipped at the delicate skin there before moving to kiss the side of Charles’ wrist. “ I didn’t. I showed him how men like me, like _us_ , can be with one another. No more dark alleys and shame-laden trysts in the hold of a ship.”

James pressed up into Thomas’ body. “You showed me love.”

They shared a look, equal parts desire and affection and happiness, before James tipped his face towards Charles’ hand. He cupped the man’s cheek and stroked the jut of his cheekbone.

James’ face contorted in pleasure as Thomas resumed his movements, thrusting into him with long and unhurried motions that drove James up the bed and closer to Charles’ body. He saw the moment James came, saw how his eyes widened and his mouth went lax. Thomas came soon after with a broken cry thick with some unnamed emotion before leaning down to press his face into James’ neck.

They clung to one another for long moments, shivering in the aftermath, before untangling.

“We’ll leave you to yourself now, if you wish,” Flint said, his voice hoarse from use. Charles felt himself shiver at the sound but nodded his thanks.

The two men left hand in hand, their bodies a map of scars and sweat Charles wouldn’t have minded being squashed between. But it was too much, too soon. He sat at the head of the bed and curled his toes in the warm spot where James had been laying. He shucked his clothes off and tucked at his cock in fast, harsh motions, twisting at the head and groaning at the feeling of pleasure coiling in his belly.

It didn’t take long to finish, the smell of sex still in the air and the warmth still at his feet.

He slept soundly and woke to the sounds of muffled moans from the cabin’s bedroom.

It was a good way to wake up.


End file.
